


Everything's Made To Be Broken

by LittleSparrow69



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Aftermath, Attempted Sexual Assault, Drugged Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mission Related, Pre-Slash, Protective Jack Dalton (MacGyver 2016)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-27 22:30:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19799068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSparrow69/pseuds/LittleSparrow69
Summary: Jack was already moving as the sound of a struggle reached him through the comm.  He didn’t need a safe word to know his partner was in trouble.





	Everything's Made To Be Broken

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls
> 
> My first foray into this lovely fandom. Adore the reboot and the chemistry between Jack and Mac! Thank you to the fabulous authors here who have given me countless hours of reading enjoyment! 
> 
> Timeline: Sometime before Bozer was fully brought into the fray.

Jack sat in the dark at Mac’s bedside. The moon outside was nearly full, hanging low in the night sky, painting the room and its occupants in a ghostly blue. It was late…or early depending on one’s perspective. Jack didn’t really care either way. He was stiff and tired but nothing short of a bulldozer would move him from Mac’s side at the moment. He’d even brought the coffee maker into the bedroom so he wouldn’t have to leave Mac alone a moment more than necessary. 

The kid was going to be the death of him. Mac was so damn smart in some ways that it was downright crazy. He’d proven himself time and time again with his intellect and abilities; gotten them both out of messes that even Jack had doubted a time or two. Yet one area of weakness continued to be his innate belief in the goodness of others. Jack was the first to admit that he’d always been a bit on the cynical side, all too ready to believe the worst of people. Mac, well he was the exact opposite. He believed everyone had some good in them. It was just harder to find in some than others. 

When Jack first started working with MacGyver he’d wanted nothing more than to burst that bubble. Eventually he figured that it would happen on its own, that the job would do it for him and he wouldn’t have to look like the asshole. The kid was young and naïve and that was never a good combination in their line of work. It had taken a lot longer than expected - long enough for Jack to get to know Mac and to develop a genuine respect for that oversized brain and a grudging respect for the kid’s oversized heart. 

He’d never wanted it to happen like this though. 

Mac shifted in his sleep and a small noise drew Jack to his knees next to the bed. Restless and sluggish beneath the covers, Mac’s breathing picked up and his brows furrowed in obvious distress. Jack did his best to soothe him back to sleep, running a hand through his hair and whispering reassurances. It had worked a handful of times already but this time felt different. 

“No…”the word soft and startlingly helpless. “Stop…please…” 

“Shhhhhh,” Jack tried as Mac tossed his head back and forth. “You’re safe, kiddo. I’ve got you.” 

It was evident that Mac wasn’t hearing him this time. He struggled against the blanket as if it was restricting him, growing frantic in his attempt to free himself. Barely there pleas of “no” and “don’t” went straight to Jack’s heart and he had to swallow past a lump in his throat. He’d just made the decision to wake Mac up to save him from whatever horror he was imagining when the man in question startled awake with a gasp and scrambled back against the headboard. 

Jack immediately reached for the bedside lamp and a soft glow lit up the room. Mac’s eyes were wide and wild, his breathing a little too fast as he took in the room like he’d never seen it before. Granted, they’d only crashed here a few times over the years after a particularly harrowing mission but there was no way he could adequately explain Mac’s condition to Bozer without inspiring a whole lot more questions than either of them were prepared to answer so he’d made the call to bring Mac to his place. 

“Hey,” Jack called gently, hands slightly raised in an attempt to soothe and appear non-threatening. “You with me partner?” 

It took some effort but Mac eventually focused on him, blinking at Jack for a long moment. Jack all but held his breath. Mac’s eyes were still glassy and more pupil than color but there was more awareness now than when Jack had all but had to carry the kid inside and tuck him in. It could be another ten hours or more before the drug fully worked its way out of Mac’s system. 

“Jack?” 

The relief and recognition in Mac’s voice allowed Jack to breathe again despite the rough, broken tone that told him things were far from okay. 

“Yeah, buddy,” Jack said. “I’m here. Do…do you know where you are?” he asked, trying to gauge exactly how lucid his young friend was. 

Mac looked around the room, a tad self-conscious, eyes flicking back to Jack every now and then. 

“Your place?” 

It was more question than statement but Jack would take it. It meant Mac’s brain was still online and that even if he didn’t immediately recognize the room, he was able to instinctively deduce where he was from various clues. 

“Gold star, kiddo,” Jack smiled encouragingly but it was a pale imitation of his usual. 

Mac didn’t smile though. He was upset and unsettled and it was just as obvious that he wasn’t sure why. It took a few minutes, gears working slower than usual but eventually the fog cleared. Jack saw the moment that some semblance of memory returned. It was painful to watch. He’d spare Mac from that if he could, but even he knew it was better to face trauma head on than to hide from it. 

“Hey, hey,” Jack moved closer at the change in Mac’s breathing, breaths coming short and fast. “Easy. Come on, kiddo. Open those baby blues and look at me. That’s it.”

Jack exuded a calm that he didn’t necessarily feel, but knew it was exactly what Mac needed. 

“Slow it down just a little,” Jack soothed, taking some slow measured breaths, pleased when Mac attempted to emulate him. “That’s it.” And then, because he wasn’t sure exactly what Mac did remember he continued. “You’re safe. I got to you in time, buddy. I got to you in time.” 

Mac held Jack’s gaze like a lifeline, vulnerable in a way that few people were ever allowed to see. He watched as Mac tried to piece his armor back together, put on that wholesome _’I’m fine’_ mask that was so often a default defense mechanism at best. He couldn’t seem to manage it this time. The kid looked closer to sixteen than twenty-six and Jack was torn between pulling Mac into his arms and respecting his personal space.

“What do you need?” Jack asked, feeling helpless but willing to do anything. 

Despite his tendency to mother-hen the kid, he knew Mac was a big boy and could take care of himself. But no one was ever really prepared for something like this. 

“Shower,” Mac said almost immediately. “I really want a shower.” 

Jack wasn’t surprised. Per a quick glance at the bedside clock it was nearing 3:30 am. It didn’t matter in the least. What did matter was the slight slur in Mac’s speech. It was subtle but Jack’s concern ticked up a notch. 

“Okay,” he said, moving back to give Mac some space but sticking close enough to offer assistance if needed. “I’ll grab you some clothes out of your duffle once we get you…” 

“I can handle a shower on my own, Jack,” Mac reminded him with a familiar tone and stubborn tilt of his head. He’d have been convincing too if it wasn’t for the fact that he looked and sounded about as weak as a day old kitten. 

Jack held his tongue and hoped like hell that Mac was right. It would mean the drug was working its way out of Mac’s system quicker than anticipated. He watched as Mac scooted to the edge of the bed and stood. So far so good. Jack almost smiled at the corner of his eye _told you so_ glance Mac tossed his way but he didn’t have time because in the next instant he had an armful of warm, lean muscle. 

“Whoa,” Jack moved instinctively and caught Mac before he could go down, “Okay. Easy….easy. Take a minute, get your bearings.” 

Mac did just that, swaying unsteadily and panting softly as Jack held him. 

“Wh…what did he g…give me?” Mac asked. 

Jack had been hoping to hold off on this discussion until MacGyver was more with it. He sighed but answered truthfully. “Rohypnol.” 

Mac stilled instantly but Jack barely had time to register it before MacGyver pulled away with surprising strength and lurched unsteadily towards the bathroom. Jack followed closely, a guiding hand on his partner the only thing that kept Mac from hip-checking the edge of the sink cabinet as Mac fell to his knees to retch in the toilet. 

Jack was right there with him, hand on his back, as the kid tossed up the lunch they had what seemed like days ago instead of just hours before this whole nightmare started. 

“Okay, okay, okay,” Jack babbled as the dry heaves started, quickly moving to the sink that was thankfully _right there_. He soaked a wash cloth with cool water, wringing it out enough so that it wasn’t dripping, and gently placed it on the back of Mac’s neck. Back at Mac’s side with another, he gently applied it to the kid’s forehead and held it in place as Mac leaned into the contact with his eyes closed. 

His partner was as pale as the porcelain he was clinging to and trembling like a newborn foal. Jack was patience personified as Mac swallowed convulsively and breathed through the nausea.

“Easy, brother,” Jack soothed. “You’ve got this. Take your time.” 

“Where is he?” Mac took some of his weight back and Jack resisted the urge to wipe the kids face down with the damp rag left in his hand but Mac had never responded well to being babied. 

“Well,” Jack started as he got up long enough to get the kid a cup full of water to rinse his mouth out with. “After a brief stint in the ER he’s locked up in a secure holding cell. He won’t be going anywhere any time soon.” 

“ER?” Mac inquired. 

“Yeah, I may have shot him…just a little,” Jack admitted without one ounce of guilt. 

Mac frowned in uncertainty at the statement and looked confused, eyes unfocused as he tried to recall details…one surfacing pretty clearly apparently. “He was unarmed…” 

Jack had the urge to soothe the distress from that furrowed brow but kept his hands to himself. Just the quick flash of memory of what he walked in on had his pulse racing and his blood boiling. The man may not have had a weapon on him but he was as dangerous as they come.

“I really didn’t give a flying…” Jack reigned in his frustration because there was no outlet here in which he could safely release it. He couldn’t, wouldn’t expose Mac to that. 

“You,” Mac’s voice was so quiet that Jack had to strain to hear it. “You said you got there in time.” 

“I did,” Jack reached out and grasped one of Mac’s wrists and gave a reassuring squeeze. “I did, buddy, I promise. 

Mac refused to meet his gaze and a flush of color infused his pale features.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that.” 

For the span of a few seconds Jack was struck speechless, but then he was moving, both hands cradling the skull that housed the super-sized brain that he loved so much. 

“You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing,” Jack reiterated quiet but fierce in his declaration. “You got that, kid?”

Mac nodded but didn’t make eye contact. Jack was disturbed and concerned because there was a measure of shame on that young face that just didn’t belong there. He knew that it needed to be addressed but decided that now was not the time. Mac wasn’t himself right now and the drugs were still working their way out of his system. 

“You still want that shower?” Jack asked. 

Mac’s relief at the change in topic was subtle but noticeable and Jack was glad that he’d followed his instincts. He didn’t want to push before the kid could pull himself back together. 

“Yeah,” Mac responded. “I’m fine. I’ll be out when I’m done.” 

The words were slightly dismissive but Jack didn’t take offense in least. 

“Look, kid,” he started. “I’m going to give you as much privacy as I possibly can, but I’m not leaving. Your balance is shot and the last thing you need is to be alone.” 

Jack’s tone booked no argument. Mac scowled at him but ultimately didn’t argue. That fact alone unsettled Jack more than it should have. 

“Okay, then,” Jack stood and extended a hand to Mac. “Let’s get you off the floor.” 

The shower curtain was pulled aside so Jack could give a quick tutorial of the controls, point out the non-slip hand holds that he’d installed after one too many times of almost passing out in the shower himself after an injury, and grabbed a couple of fluffy towels to set within reach. With that Jack closed the bathroom door to keep the warmth in and planted himself in front of it like a sentinel with his back to the room. It left him with a rather boring close up of the door but easily within reach if Mac needed anything. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” Jack encouraged. “Take your time.” 

It didn’t take long for the small room to fill up with steam. He heard a few thumps and bumps, nothing overly concerning but felt the need to check in anyways. 

“I’m fine,” Mac beat him to the punch and it was enough to get a small smile out of Jack. 

It was overly warm and condensation was already beading on the door but Jack kept his place without complaint. His mind wandered and as much as he didn’t want to go there Jack couldn’t help but think back on that desperate moment in which he feared he may not reach his partner in time. Their target wasn’t part of any known database but Matty had received an anonymous tip from a trusted source that the man had ties to a terrorist cell they had been tracking. Initially, much to Jack’s dismay, Riley had been tapped as bait in an attempt to gain access to the man’s apartment. All she had to do was plant a bug, give the code word and the team would create a diversion to get her the hell out of there. 

It quickly became apparent however that their target was surprisingly uninterested in Riley and in a stroke of impulsive inspiration MacGyver had stepped in before the team had completely lost the opportunity to connect. Mac’s instincts had proven correct…though he didn’t quite seem to know what to do with the sudden attention and affection he’d garnered. Luckily their target had been charmed by this and had gone to great lengths to get Mac to agree to a dinner date. Unnecessarily so, considering it had been part of the plan all along, but it had played out well in that Mac was realistically hesitant in meeting a man he’d just met at his apartment rather than in a public setting. 

The target was smoothly persistent and charming in his own right and Jack remembered feeling a distinct sense of unease when Mac had agreed to the date – like they were serving up a sacrificial lamb on a silver platter to a hungry lion. He’d chalked it up to natural protective instinct but couldn’t quite shake the feeling. They’d had just enough time to get Mac into more appropriate attire, change out his ear bud for a less conspicuous listening device, agree on a new safe word once the bug was in place and slip a bottle of wine into his hands before he was ushered out the door to drive himself to the address he’d been given. 

The team had followed in an unmarked van and parked in an alley outside the building. The first half hour had been basic small talk and getting to know one another. Not nearly as awkward as everyone had been expecting. Mac was actually doing quite well in his impromptu role. He’d even accepted a glass of the wine that he’d brought and was cutting vegetables for a salad as they talked. The first time Mac had slurred they’d all just looked at each other, not quite sure they’d heard what they thought they’d heard. It had escalated so quickly after that, their target completely dropping any pretense of charm, the tone of his voice turning smug and predatory.

Jack was already moving as the sound of a struggle reached him through the comm. He didn’t need a safe word to know his partner was in trouble. Jack heard every ignored request to _stop_ , the slurring more noticeable, Mac’s voice growing softer but for one final plea. 

“Jack!”

Jack may have actually growled as their target laughed, amused. 

“That’s not my name, pretty boy, but you can call me whatever you want.” 

Jack pulled a fire alarm on his way by as he took the next flight of stairs, heard it echo in his ear piece. Much to his dismay it only seemed to annoy their target. He didn’t think he could move any faster than he was but he somehow managed. The lack of any additional commentary from Mac made the last two flights seem like an eternity. Jack didn’t even bother to try the knob as he finally reached the target’s apartment, just kicked the door in with his gun drawn. 

The kitchen was empty, abandoned mid-meal prep. Jack made his way in the only direction left and zeroed in on the partially open door at the end of the hall. There were one-sided noises coming from that room that caused his adrenalin to spike, made him a little more forceful as he barged into the room. Jack took in the scene in less than a second, Mac partially conscious and pinned to the bed, shirt ripped wide open. The target’s face was buried in Mac’s neck, one hand working at the buckle of the kid’s belt. 

“Hey, asshole!” Jack yelled as he came through the door. “Get the fuck off him! Now!” 

Apparently the guy had been pretty preoccupied as he hadn’t even heard Jack kick in the front door. He whipped around to face Jack now with a thunderous _’who the fuck are you’_ expression. All Jack cared about was that Mac was no longer the focus of his attention. The guy crawled from the bed and stalked towards Jack with complete disregard for the firearm in his grip. All Jack could think about was getting to Mac and that he didn’t have time to take the guy down the old fashioned way. Besides, the dude looked seriously intent on taking him apart. He chose his spot carefully and fired, clipping the guy in the shoulder. A dirty but satisfying kick to the balls and the guy went down long enough for Jack to get the cuffs on him. A final boot to the face and the son of a bitch was out. 

There was chaos on the comm and the cavalry was on its way but all Jack had eyes for was Mac. The first thing he did was pull the shirt together to cover his exposed torso, cursing to himself as he noticed the buttons had all been popped. 

“You with me kid?” Jack asked desperately as he cupped Mac’s face and tried to catch his gaze. 

Mac couldn’t focus at all, didn’t even seem to be aware of his surroundings. 

Jack was brought back to the present by a loud thump behind him and only then realized that the bathroom was no longer filled with steam but that the shower was still running. 

“Mac?” Jack tried to keep the alarm out of his voice. “You okay buddy?” 

There was no response for several beats of Jack’s heart and he was ready to pull aside the shower curtain, modesty be damned, when he heard Mac’s voice. It was thin and broken, coming from a much lower altitude than expected. 

“Jack.” 

That did it. 

“Jesus, kid,” Jack found Mac on his knees and was quick to turn off the now cold water and grab a nearby towel. He wrapped it around bare shoulders and grabbed another to drape over dripping hair. “You’re freezing.” 

Mac looked up at him, eyes red-rimmed and lost. “I…I couldn’t move Jack. He kept touching me and I couldn’t move.” 

Slipping to his knees as well, Jack was gentle as he carefully rubbed the towel over water logged hair. 

“I know,” Jack’s empathy was so quiet and genuine that it hurt. “I’m sorry.” 

He stopped there because it was on the tip of his tongue to say ‘ _I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner._ ’ Jack didn’t want to make it about him though, because it wasn’t. He was concerned about the faint tremor he could feel and the fact that Mac’s teeth were beginning to chatter. 

“Come on, kiddo,” Jack stated as he helped Mac to his feet, holding him steady until both feet were on the bathmat outside of the slippery tub. “Let’s get you dry and warm.” Grabbing another towel he quickly wrapped it around a slim waist and led the kid from the room. The fact that Mac was not protesting and was all but oblivious to both his nudity and the assistance was worrisome.

Jack sat him on the bed and rifled through the kid’s duffle for sweat pants, boxers and a t-shirt. Mac didn’t assist or acknowledge in any way. He startled, but only slightly, when Jack rubbed at his hair with the towel one final time to get rid of as much dampness as possible. When it looked like the kid wasn’t going to bother with drying himself off at all, Jack took matters into his own hands. Brisk but efficient, he talked as he worked to both soothe and distract. He wasn’t sure if it was himself or MacGyver that needed it, possibly both, because Jack was concerned on a level he refused to acknowledge at the moment. This wasn’t typical MacGyver behavior at all but Jack was holding a tight lid on his anxiety, at least until the drugs were fully out of Mac’s system. 

“Here we go,” Jack slipped the t-shirt over Mac’s head because the shivering had becoming more pronounced. Once that was done Mac took over by rote and brought his arms in close as if to further warm himself. It wasn’t enough. Jack snagged a navy blue hoodie out of the duffle and quickly, but gently, wrestled Mac into the warm, voluminous material.

“There,” he said. “That’s better,” as if just saying it could make it so. 

Mac didn’t respond. The hood covered dark blonde hair and the sleeves were a tad too long. It made him look more the part of a child than he really was. 

“I’m going to need your help here in just a sec, bud,” Jack warned as he lifted a naked foot and wriggled a sock into place, lining the seams just so for one foot and then the other. Boxers were next and Jack threaded each leg through and inched them up to knee level and did the same with the grey sweat pants. The towel was still wrapped around Mac’s waist. If Jack had to help with this next part he could and would do so, but it felt important to offer the option. 

“Hey,” Jack’s voice was soft as he remained in a squatted position in front of Mac and attempted to catch his gaze. When he didn’t get an immediate response he grasped the strong, dimpled chin and said it again. The kid was completely zoned out and it was making Jack nervous. 

“Mac!” he snapped out louder than intended. It had the unfortunate result of startling the kid. The flinch was instinctive and Jack reined in his guilt because it garnered the results he’d been aiming for. Mac was focused on him at least for the moment. “You got this?” Jack asked, releasing him. 

The response was delayed. Mac met his gaze but didn’t fully seem to understand what Jack was asking before looking down at his state of undress. It took a moment but Jack eventually saw a muted spark of understanding, of embarrassment before it was quickly locked away. The kid gave him a determined nod, still trembling like a leaf and looking all of six years old. 

Jack turned away to give Mac some semblance of privacy. He picked up the wet towels and anything else he’d left strewn on the floor previously and tossed them into the hamper before zipping up Mac’s duffel and placing it next to the wall so neither of them would trip over it later. By the time he turned around Mac had climbed under the covers and was still shivering. Jack frowned and retrieved the extra blankets he had stored in the closet. His concern spiked as the mound of blankets continued to tremble. 

“I c…c…can’t get warm,” Mac admitted, his voice a clear indication as to the distress this was causing him. 

It was times like this Jack wished he had an electric blanket. He didn’t but he did happen to have a heating pad that plugged in and a couple of rice socks he could warm in the microwave. 

“Hold tight, buddy,” he called as he left to retrieve them. “I’m on it!” 

In no time at all he’d gotten Mac surrounded by as much warmth as he could get his hands on and the kid was still shaking, making small helpless noises as his teeth continued to chatter. Jack couldn’t take it anymore. It was obvious the chill was not external. It was trauma related and Jack did the only thing he could think of. He got rid of his shoes, his belt and his button down, leaving him in his jeans and a t-shirt and went to the other side of the bed. 

“If you’ve got a problem with this now is the time to say so, dude,” Jack said as he lifted the covers and climbed in. 

The moment he was close enough Mac curled into him, one arm wrapping around him and gripping the back of his shirt tight, legs tangling as the kid clung to him. 

“I’ve got you,” Jack promised. “You’re safe. I’m here, buddy. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Tucked beneath his chin, Mac whimpered quietly and all Jack could do was close his eyes and hold him closer.

“It won’t stop,” Mac confessed. “It just keeps playing over and over in my head.” Then, in a small and uncharacteristically vulnerable voice he begged, “Make it stop, Jack. Please make it stop.” 

Rocking and shushing, Jack was so affected by Mac’s plea that he could feel the sting of tears he would never let fall. He started talking, because really, it was the only thing he could do. 

“Did I ever tell you about the time…” 

Mac knew a lot of his history but Jack had a few years on his partner and plenty of stories that had yet to be shared. He could practically feel the shift in focus, Mac hanging on his every word in an attempt to avoid whatever was going on in his head. There were things in his past that Jack had never talked about. To anyone. He started there, because why go easy? If anyone had earned the right to parts of him that he’d never given…it was MacGyver. 

It didn’t take long to get overheated with all the blankets he’d piled on the bed before climbing in. Jack was hot and slightly uncomfortable with Mac curled around him like an octopus, but he didn’t for a moment consider moving. He wasn’t sure how long it took. He couldn’t see the clock and it didn’t really matter anyways. It happened slowly, Jack’s mouth gone dry, voice edging toward raspy by the time the tremors eased enough to allow Mac to drift in the direction of sleep. Jack continued to talk. 

He wasn’t even aware he’d fallen asleep until Mac startled in his arms, fighting his hold and the blankets, in a sudden explosion of movement that caused Jack to bite his tongue. Sharp pain blossomed in his mouth and he tasted blood even as he quickly got his bearings and loosened his hold enough for Mac not to feel trapped. 

“Whoa, there,” Jack said as he gripped Mac’s chin and forced him to meet his gaze. “It’s me kiddo. It’s me. Look at me.” 

Mac tried but his eyes refused to focus. They rolled tiredly and Jack wasn’t even sure that he was fully awake. His voice though, that seemed to get through. 

“Jack…” Mac said, a barely there whisper, lids heavy and fluttering in an attempt to remain open. “Don’t…don’t leave…” 

“Never going to happen, bud,” Jack promised, smoothing the hoodie back and some of the blankets as he noticed the fine sheen of sweat coating pale skin. “You’re stuck with me.” 

As Mac slipped under again Jack pulled him in with a hand at the nape of his neck and kissed his forehead. 

“You’re stuck with me.” 

It happened several more times, Mac struggling sluggishly in his sleep, Jack’s voice the only thing that calmed and settled him. Mac’s trust in him was implicit and instinctive; it was both humbling and terrifying and Jack had vowed more than once to be worthy of it. 

At some point Jack joined Mac in slumber and both were so exhausted that they actually got a few hours of dreamless, uninterrupted sleep. 

The bed was empty when Jack woke. The sudden surge of panic he felt dissipated at the sound of the shower. Still fuzzy with lack of sleep Jack made his way to the kitchen, grabbing his coffee pot along the way, and set about making a fresh pot. He was very aware that Mac hadn’t eaten since lunch time yesterday, so while he was not normally into breakfast as soon as he got up, he turned the griddle on and pulled some eggs and bacon from the fridge. 

Jack had made scrambled eggs, crispy bacon and was pouring pancake batter when he suddenly realized that the shower had been running for a really long time. Tossing the bowl in the direction of the sink he headed in that direction and was halfway across his room when the water cut off. He paused mid-stride. 

“Everything okay in there?” he asked, remembering all too clearly how he’d found Mac a few hours ago. 

“Fine,” came right back at him. “Be out in a minute.” 

Fine was a relative term and never to be taken at face value when it came to his young friend, but Jack knew when to push and when to allow for some space. He returned to his pancakes and managed another batch of six and had just transferred everything to the table when Mac made an appearance. 

“Hey brother, have a seat,” Jack said as he retrieved the syrup, surreptitiously giving Mac the once over. 

“Jack…” Mac started and then stopped, at a loss as he surveyed the bounty of food on the table. 

“I don’t want to hear that you’re not hungry, dude,” Jack interrupted mildly. “I know for a fact you haven’t eaten anything in almost twenty-four hours. We both know that some nutrition and hydration will go a long way in making you feel better and working the last of the drug out of your system.” 

With that Jack retrieved a jug of orange juice and a bottle of water from the fridge and proceeded to pour a glass of each for his partner. 

Mac sat down. He looked moderately refreshed from his shower but still so very tired and pale, wounded in a way that made Jack’s heart ache.

“Eat up, brother,” Jack ordered as he filled his own plate and took his own advice, despite the fact that he wasn’t overly hungry and would have been satisfied with just his coffee. 

He surreptitiously watched as Mac downed half of his orange juice before putting _just_ enough on his plate to make Jack happy. The kid took eating slow to a whole new level, taking small methodical bites from a little of everything but getting enough into him that Jack had actually started to relax. That was of course the moment when Mac pushed away from the table with an urgency that could only mean one thing. Jack followed, wincing in sympathy, as Mac threw up the meager contents that he’d managed to get down. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Jack,” Mac apologized as he flushed the mess away and took the wash cloth Jack offered to wipe his face. “I can’t…I just can’t…” 

“Shhhhhh,” Jack pulled Mac in with a hand at the back of his head until the kid’s forehead rested against his shoulder. “It’s okay, brother. You tried, that’s all I can ask. Take it easy.” 

Mac was pale and shaking; gripping Jack’s free arm with a hold so fierce it would likely leave bruises. When Mac didn’t seem inclined to move, Jack settled in to wait him out, giving the young man the time he needed to get his bearings. Jack waited until his knees were starting to ache and then urged Mac to his feet. 

“Come on, let’s go watch some mindless television,” Jack said as he guided Mac to the living room. 

Jack pulled up the Netflix Queue and scrolled through his options. Nothing too heavy, too emotional or triggery. “Any suggestions?” he asked, looking back at Mac who had curled up at one end of the sofa and had his arms wrapped around one of the decorative, but comfortable, accent pillows that Riley had insisted were necessary. 

Mac shook his head. 

“Okay, Fast and Furious it is,” Jack said as he clicked on the first movie in the series. The first five movies were all available and should keep them semi-distracted into the afternoon. Jack knew that Mac really just needed some time to piece himself back together and wasn’t ready to talk about what happened. And Jack, well Jack wasn’t about to let him go through that alone. He did his best to give Mac space while orbiting quietly from a distance throughout the day. At one point they both managed a bowl of cereal and Jack breathed a quiet sound of relief when it managed to stay down. By the time Fast Five came on Jack was having a hard time keeping his eyes open due to the lack of sleep from the previous night. 

He didn’t remember falling asleep but the next thing Jack knew he was blinking up at the ceiling and his neck ached something awful. He was upright on his end of the sofa, but Mac had migrated to take over the length of the couch with his head now pillowed on Jack’s thigh. The kid was out like a light. Mac didn’t even stir as Jack’s hand settled in his hair. Jack was in the process of carefully working the kinks out of his neck so as to not wake Mac when his cellphone buzzed on the end table next to him. It was Matty. He debated not answering but knew that he had to. He was surprised she’d waited this long for an update. 

“Hey, Matty,” he answered in a hushed voice. 

The delay in her response was minimal as she assessed the situation. “He’s sleeping?” She asked. 

“Yes,” Jack confirmed, following up with, “and we’re not going to wake him up because he had one hell of a night and sleep is the best thing for him right now.” 

“Agreed,” Matty said. “The entire team is on leave for the next week. Everyone needs a little time to process…myself included. But Jack…this isn’t something that Mac is just going to bounce back from. He’s going to need help…professional help.” 

Jack sighed. Mac was going to love that. 

“I’m serious, Jack,” Matty pushed. “This is mandatory. I’ve already spoken to the agency psychologist and set up an appointment for him. It’s your job to make sure he gets there. Got it?” 

“Yeah, I got it,” Jack responded. “He’s not going to like it and I can’t blame him there, but I agree Matilda. Mac needs more help than we can give him.” 

Jack couldn’t help but remember that misplaced sense of shame when Mac first woke last night and the eerie balance of overly emotional and complete disconnect that his friend ping ponged back and forth between. He’d hoped it was due more to the drugs than the trauma but ultimately it was all tied together. 

“You’re a good friend, Jack,” Matty broke through his thoughts with genuine sympathy in her voice. “Baby Einstein’s lucky to have you.” 

Matty ended the call on that final note. Jack looked down at a soundly sleeping and safe Mac and decided he was the lucky one. He’d never wanted for family or friends or purpose…but it wasn’t until Mac came into his life that he’d realized something _had_ been missing. Mac fit so perfectly into every aspect that once he was there it was hard to imagine life without him. The kid was independent as hell and could take care of himself in most circumstances but there was something almost fragile about Mac at times; when he was hurting, when he thought no one was looking. 

Jack let Mac sleep for as long as he could but eventually his bladder began to revolt. He roused Mac gently with a hand to his shoulder and watched as blue eyes fluttered open in sleepy confusion, the young man more asleep than awake. Jack smoothed the hair back from his face, struck once again by just how damn young Mac appeared without his defenses in place. 

“Time for bed, kiddo.”

Mac blinked up at him for a long moment before his eyes slipped closed once again. Jack smiled, tempted to let him sleep. 

“Nope,” Jack decided as he gripped both of Mac’s shoulder’s and guided him to a sitting position on the couch. “Bed is much more comfortable. Come on, let’s go.” 

It was hard, but Jack ignored the adorably disgruntled look on Mac’s face as he urged the kid to his feet and pointed him in the direction of the bedroom. Luckily Jack still had his hands on Mac’s shoulders from behind when Mac listed to one side and nearly lost his balance. 

“Whoa!” Jack’s arm went around Mac’s waist before he could go down. “Okay, okay,” he babbled as Mac attempted to get his feet back under him. “You’re okay…I’ve got you.” 

“Jack,” Mac’s voice was low and distressed. “I…I think I’m going to be sick.” 

“You do whatever you’ve got to do partner,” Jack soothed. “It’s okay. We’re going to stay right here until you’re ready to move.” 

Jack waited out the convulsive swallowing and the barely there whimpers as Mac fought against the nausea. 

“Take your time,” Jack coached with his chest pressed to Mac’s back, free hand settling on the kid’s sternum as a counterpoint. “You’ve got this. Breath with me…” 

Jack widened his stance as he took more of Mac’s weight. 

“There you go…easy does it…” Jack kept up the quiet flow of words until Mac’s breathing began to even out. 

They stood there for a long time, Jack content to let Mac decide when to move. 

“I hate this,” his young friend whispered miserably, head heavy on Jack’s shoulder.

Jack grimaced at the faint slur still evident in Mac’s voice even as he responded in sympathy, “I know you do, bud.” 

When the nausea finally eased MacGyver all but melted into Jack’s arms and he knew it was time to move before the kid fell asleep on his feet. He shifted enough to telegraph his intent and Mac instinctively took some of his own weight. With a hand at Mac’s hip and another at the opposite shoulder he carefully maneuvered their way around the furniture and steered them towards the bedroom. Biddable in a way that made Jack uneasy he chose to believe it was because of the trust they’d established over the years and not due to some drug Mac had been given by a sleazebag that would have taken advantage of him in such a vulnerable state. Tired and drained as he was the mere thought burned bright and hot, causing Jack’s jaw to clench in rage, even as his hands gentled the young soul in his charge into bed and tucked the blankets around him. 

His very full bladder abruptly reminded him of its need to be emptied. Jack had risen and turned in the direction of the bathroom when Mac’s hand suddenly and with surprising strength grasped his wrist.

“Don’t leave,” Mac’s eyes were glassy and desperate as if Jack’s presence was the only thing holding him together. 

Ignoring his discomfort, Jack went to one knee next to the bed and cradled Mac’s face, thumb slowly stroking the soft, thin skin beneath his eye. 

“Not going anywhere, I promise,” Jack whispered quietly. “I’m here, Angus.” 

Mac’s eyes immediately rolled and fluttered at Jack’s rhythmic touch as he fought to keep them open. Jack watched him closely until he eventually lost the battle and succumbed to sleep. 

“I’m here,” Jack repeated, hand trembling as he pulled it back. For a split second Jack was utterly and completely terrified by the depth of affection and love he felt for his young friend and he wondered if this was what it was like to be an older brother…a parent…a…his mind shied away from the less platonic relationship that had suddenly popped into existence in this thoughts. He turned away physically, as if that would dispel the notion all together, and made is way to the bathroom. 

With a groan of pure satisfaction Jack relieved himself before washing his hands and returning to the gray wash of light in the bedroom. It was barely nine but it was obvious they both needed the rest. By morning the drugs should be out of Mac’s system entirely. Jack crawled into bed and wrapped himself around Mac without even thinking about it. He was asleep within minutes. 

Unfortunately the night was not completely uneventful. Several times Jack woke to sounds of distress, Mac struggling ineffectively to break from his hold only to cling to him in obvious relief as Jack’s voice pierced the dark tangle of nightmares. Jack held him close, whispering words of reassurance, lips grazing the whorls of Mac’s ear until the trembling of trauma abated…and sometimes long after. 

When Jack had first met Mac, he’d figured out rather quickly that the kid was a loner. He didn’t have much in the way of family and while he was outgoing and friendly, Mac was as self-reliant as they came. He didn’t ask for help in anything and didn’t seem to know what to do with it when he did get it. They’d gotten off to a rough start but then Mac had saved his life and Jack found himself signing on for another tour just to make sure someone had the kid’s back. He’d had no idea just how much Mac would come to mean to him. Jack fell asleep cursing the reason Mac clung to him, even as part of him truly treasured the safe haven he’d worked so hard to create – a place in which Mac’s trust in him was implicit. A place where the sound of his voice was enough to keep the demons at bay, if only for a time. 

The next time Jack blinked his eyes open the room was flooded with early morning sunlight and he was flat on his back, the bed next to him empty. The shower wasn’t running but it had been not too long ago. He could feel the humidity in the air and smell the faint scent of his shampoo. Sounds of movement from the kitchen forced him out of bed in search of his guest. 

Mac was fully dressed, duffel bag at his feet, leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee. 

“Hey,” Jack said as he shuffled to the coffee pot and poured himself a mug. “How you feeling?” 

“I’m good,” Mac replied. “I didn’t want to wake you so I called a cab. Should be here in ten.” 

Jack studied him for a long moment. Mac’s eyes were clear, his balance looked good, he looked a little more rested than Jack currently felt. And more obvious than any of that was that his partner’s poker face was back in full force. Jack smiled but it was a little sad. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said. “I could’ve given you a ride.” 

“You’ve done too much for me already, Jack,” Mac responded. “I…I don’t know what I would have done without you. Thank you.” 

_Thank you, but I’ve got it from here._

Jack knew better than to push. There was a time for that and this wasn’t it. 

“No need to thank me, partner. You’d have done the same for me.” 

It was a given that there was little they wouldn’t do for each other at this point. 

“Listen,” Jack had to make one thing clear. “My door is always open, day or night, you need _anything_ you come to me. Okay?” 

Mac nodded and quietly responded with, “Thanks, Jack.” 

They talked about anything and everything that wasn’t the last fuck up of a mission until the cab arrived. Jack let Mac go without really wanting to but understanding the kid needed to shore up his defenses. It was hard because he was well versed in how Mac handled things. He expected the distance that Mac placed between them. It wasn’t overt, but it was noticeable, to Jack if no one else. Mac wasn’t used to being so openly exposed or vulnerable and while he trusted Jack, that didn’t mean he ever wanted Jack to see him that way. So he pulled away, slightly, and Jack let him. 

No one was surprised when Mac balked at the referral for mandatory therapy. The _only_ thing that stopped him from digging his heels in was the fact that had it been anyone else on the team to go through the same thing – Mac would have agreed that it was necessary. Matty was true to her word. The team had a full week off and when they did return to active duty it was milk run missions more than anything for the first few weeks. Jack was the same constant presence as always. He knew nothing about Mac’s therapy other than he must be going or Matty would have said something. 

Four months later and things were just returning into some semblance of normal when there was a knock at his door late one evening. Jack had just rounded first base with his date and was looking for a grand slam when interruption occurred. He groaned but pulled himself away from the attractive brunette on his bed. Thankfully they were both still fully dressed. 

“I’ll get rid of them, whoever it is,” he promised. “Be right back.” 

His date, Ashley extended her hand and Jack helped her to her feet. 

“You do that,” she all but purred. “I’m just going to freshen up a bit.” 

Jack watched as she made her way to the attached bath and closed the door behind her. It had been a long time since he’d invited anyone over with the expectation of sex. Jack was still more than a little aroused and did his best to tame the bulge in his pants before answered the door. When he was certain he wasn’t flushed or breathless he went to answer the door, irritable at being disturbed so late in the evening and in the middle of such pleasurable activities. He was not expecting to see Mac on the other side of the door. So much so that he could only gape for a few seconds before instinct kicked in. 

“Mac? What are you doing here? Is everything alright?” Jack asked in genuine concern, pulling him into the room. 

The kid had not been back to his place since the night he’d been drugged. Jack knew Mac well enough to know that it was something significant that brought him back now. 

“Everything’s fine,” Mac assured. “I just…you know…is it okay if I hang out here tonight?” 

The question was tentative, almost shy, even as Mac _had_ to know that that the answer would always be an unequivocal affirmative. 

“Of course, yeah,” Jack led him towards the sofa. “Mi casa es su casa. Just give me one sec, okay?” 

Jack left Mac in the living room as he quickly made his way back to the bedroom where Ashely was waiting for him in a seductive pose. 

“Ah,” he started. “I hate to do this but…” 

Jack was apologetic but firm and in the end charming enough so that Ashley wasn’t too put out by the abrupt change in plans. They tentatively rescheduled for the following Friday and Jack walked her to the door. Mac shot to his feet as they appeared eyes wide and absolutely mortified by what he had interrupted. The kid awkwardly stumbled through the brief introduction and then turned away as Jack kissed Ashely on the cheek before closing the door behind her. 

“Jack,” Mac was absolutely aghast. “I am so sorry…I can’t believe I…I should have called. You didn’t have to…I can leave…” 

“Calm down, bud,” Jack wanted nothing more than to put Mac at ease. “We were just finishing up. Ashely actually has to work in the morning so she was getting ready to leave when you showed up. It was perfect timing actually,” Jack lied. 

It was obvious that Mac wasn’t sure if he believed him or not but the damage was done so the kid sat back down on the sofa, which was another indication that something was on his mind. 

“So what brings you by?” Jack asked outright. “Anything wrong?” 

“Does there have to be anything wrong?” Mac dodged, looking away from him. “I just thought…its been awhile since we’ve hung out, just you and I.” 

_Okay, so we’re going to have to work our way up to this._

“Yeah, it has been awhile hasn’t it,” Jack agreed. 

He got them both a beer and then pulled up Netflix. They watched a few hours of The Office and shot the shit like old times before Jack realized that whatever it was Mac came there to say…he wasn’t quite ready to say it. He wasn’t always the most patient person but he’d learned the hard way that it was well worth the effort to let Mac decide the when and the where. So he waited, and waited, and waited…and waited some more before eventually falling asleep. Reminiscent of Mac’s last visit they’d both fallen asleep only this time his young friend had kept to his own end of the couch, slumped against the arm. Jack stood tiredly and worked the crook out of his neck before lifting Mac’s feet from the floor and stretching those long legs out on the sofa. Ever so gently he guided Mac to a more comfortable position and then covered him with the soft throw he kept on the back of his recliner. He swayed tiredly in place for several long minutes before realizing he was just standing there watching Mac sleep. Jack wandered off to bed before he could feel like a creeper. 

Hours later Jack woke, the unsettling feeling of being watched prickling the back of his neck. He opened his eyes to find Mac facing him on the opposite side of the bed and breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Hey,” Jack’s surprise and concern was evident. The room was dark but enough moonlight filtered through so that they could see each other. 

Mac’s response was soft, barely audible. “Hey.” 

_Lay it on me, kid. What’s bothering you?_

Mac’s hand twitched on the bedding between them and he picked at a loose thread. It looked like he didn’t know where to start. Jack reached out, covered his hand and gave a gentle squeeze. 

“Tell me what’s going on in that big head of yours, kid.” 

Mac met his gaze and then let it slide away. Jack knew this was the moment. He’d waited this long so a few more seconds weren’t going to kill him. 

“When I was six I had at a sleepover with my friend Billy. They had a pool. It was fun at first. We spent the whole day in the water. His mom was really cool and she ordered us pizza and we ate outside on the deck.” 

Jack listened in silence, knowing this was going somewhere. 

“Billy’s dad was there too. He’d taken some pictures of us throughout the day. Said it was for the family photo album.” 

Mac paused, his hand plucking anxiously at the loose thread. Jack was just about to still the movement when Mac twisted his wrist slightly and laced their fingers together.

Jack felt the first stirring of dread at the tight, desperate grip. 

“I went to the restroom after a swim and when I came back, Billy was gone. His dad said he’d gone to pick up some groceries with his mother and would be back soon. He…he asked if he could take some more pictures of me for my dad and that he’d make sure we got copies for our album.” 

Jack was beginning to get an idea where this was headed and it took everything in him not to let his rage show in his eyes or his touch. 

“I…I let him take my picture…even when it started to feel weird. I…I didn’t know what was happening but it didn’t feel right,” Mac continued haltingly and Jack got the impression that the kid somehow blamed himself for what had happened. 

Another pause as Mac took a few deep breathes between words. 

“I didn’t get scared until he suggested that I take my swim trunks off.” 

_That sonovabitch!_

“I said no.” _That’s my boy,_ Jack praised inwardly. “He… got mad. He…he grabbed me…” 

At this Jack did grip Mac’s hand hard, so hard it had to hurt, but Mac was holding him just as tightly. 

“I thought he was going to hurt me,” Mac admitted, voice small and childlike. “I wanted to go home. I wanted…I wanted my mom.” 

Jack’s eyes closed in grief. He knew Mac’s mom had passed away when he was five and that she’d been gone before this event would have occurred. 

“He told me that it was my fault, that I’d been leading him on all day,” Mac’s voice had been pretty steady up to that point but it finally cracked. “I didn’t…I didn’t know what he meant…what I had done.” 

“Of course you didn’t,” Jack finally interjected vehemently. “You were six years old!” 

“He told me not to tell anyone,” Mac continued. “But I couldn’t, I couldn’t be there anymore. When Billy and his mom came home I told her I was sick and that I needed to go home.” 

Jack sighed in relief. It that was the extent of the trauma it wasn’t near as bad as he’d been expecting. 

“When I got home, dad could tell that something was wrong. I couldn’t help it…I told him, I told him everything.” 

Jack didn’t think much of James MacGyver’s parenting skills but he hoped to hell the man had handled the delicate situation better than he had most things where Mac was concerned. He should have known better. 

“He grabbed me…the same way Billy’s father did…and he just looked at me. Like he was mad…like I’d done something wrong and I remember that I just wanted him to hold me…to tell me that it was okay. I just wanted to know that everything was going to be okay. That I hadn’t done anything wrong.” 

Mac was steady again, a sense of disconnect returning to distance himself from the memory. 

“What did he say?” Jack asked. He needed to know as much as he didn’t want to. 

“He said he’d take care of it,” Mac responded. “And I guess he did. I never saw Billy or his dad again.” 

_Jesus_ . A part of Jack understood James’ response - the anger, the need to do something about what had happened to his son but had the most important piece completely escaped him? 

Jack released Mac’s hand and took his face in both hands. “None of what happened that day was your fault, Angus. None of it. You were just a kid.” Jack shook him to reiterate his point. “You were just a kid.” 

“I know…I know,” Mac agreed unconvincingly. “I do know that now, Jack. It’s just…at the time I really needed to hear it…” 

“From your dad,” Jack finished for him. 

Jack was angry, so angry…at James, at Billy’s dad…at that douchebag that drugged and tried to…Jack couldn’t even say the word. _Rape._ It was too real, too vulgar, too ugly. Besides all that rage was secondary to the heartbreak and the love and his fierce desire to protect this beautiful young man. It allowed Jack to put Mac first…something James MacGyver could take a lesson from. 

“I’m so sorry, kid.” 

Mac was quiet but Jack sensed he wasn’t done. Jack grasped the suddenly fidgety hand again. 

“For a long time I thought it was my fault, that I’d done something. Dad…he…we never talked about it and after a while I guess I just blocked it. That’s what Bonnie said,” Mac continued and Jack could only assume that Bonnie was the agency psychologist. 

“It all came back when…when…” 

“Shhhhhh,” Jack soothed when Mac couldn’t continue. They both knew when. It also explained why Mac was still so affected by the encounter, he’d never really had the opportunity to properly deal with it until now. 

“A rational part of me knows…it’s not my fault. That I was too young, that I didn’t ask to be drugged…”

Jack sensed a serious _’but’_ coming that he wasn’t going to like. 

“But Jack,” Mac gasped in quiet agony, shame and guilt evident in every word uttered. “I can’t help but _feel_ like I did something wrong, that I was unaware of, and that if I hadn’t…” 

“No,” Jack interrupted firmly already shaking his head and grasping Mac’s chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. But Mac wasn’t done. 

“Is there…something about me that…” Mac haltingly started and Jack just couldn’t stand to hear the rest of that question. 

“No, Jesus Christ, no,” Jack said with conviction as he wrapped a hand around the nape of Mac’s neck and pulled him, the urgent need to comfort taking over. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart,” the endearment slipped out completely unnoticed. “It wasn’t your fault. I promise. You did nothing wrong.” 

Mac hid his face in Jack’s neck, grabbed a handful of his shirt and held tightly as his breath hitched. 

Jack knew that emotions often defied logic and what Mac was feeling and what he knew to be true were two totally different things. Only time and therapy would allow both to align. That would come later. What the man in his arms needed right now was a safe place to feel whatever he was feeling without judgement or recrimination. Jack could give him that, but he also couldn’t help but recall Mac’s words from earlier, what he’d needed to hear from his dad and didn’t get when he was six years old. 

“Everything is going to be okay, Angus,” he tightened his arms around Mac. “I’ve got you. You’re safe. I’m here. I’m so sorry this happened to you. It’s not your fault; I promise you it’s not your fault darlin’.” 

He repeated the same words over and over again until Mac’s grip on him loosened and his head grew heavy on Jack’s shoulder. 

When they woke the next morning, Mac immediately pulled away but didn’t go far. In the light of day there was slight embarrassment regarding the emotional middle of the night confession but Jack didn’t draw attention to it, he simply acted as he normally would to put the younger man at ease. 

“Sleep well?” he asked yawning and stretching as he did so. 

“Not bad,” Mac responded after a second or two of reflection. 

“So…breakfast?” Jack asked, hoping to spend a bit of one on one time with Mac now that they’d dealt with the emotional trauma that had distanced them. 

There was a beat of silence and then, “I could eat.” 

Jack smiled. “Now that’s what I like to hear.” 

They rolled out of bed, both still wearing their clothes from the night before. 

“You make the coffee and I’ll make the pancakes,” Jack suggested. 

“How ‘bout you make the coffee and I’ll make the pancakes,” Mac countered. 

“What! Why? You love my pancakes!” 

The kid actually had the audacity to laugh. “Keep telling yourself that, Jack.” 

They argued like the old friends they were, razzing one another as they each mixed their own batter in an impromptu cook off. Jack used a box mix, because how could you go wrong with Betty Crocker? Mac went for scratch, Jack turning his nose up at the white vinegar the kid added to his cup of milk while searching through cupboards for flour. And okay, maybe Mac’s pancakes were lighter, and fluffier and hinted a smidge of vanilla that had Jack wondering how in the hell the kid managed to pull that off when he knew for a fact he’d never purchased a bottle of vanilla extract in his life. 

Jack was graceful enough however to admit defeat and snagged a tall stack of Mac’s pancakes before joining him at the coffee table in the living room to watch the news. They hadn’t done this in ages. Usually it was Jack showing up at Mac’s house and Bozer cooking breakfast, which was more than fine with him, but there was something nice about this too. 

Just the two of them. 

Mac was as relaxed and comfortable as Jack had seen him since before that fateful mission. All was not yet well…but his boy was getting there. 

Jack would make sure of it. 

End.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This started out as Gen. Then I thought, well pre-slash perhaps. By the end I had committed to the pre-slash which you probably figured out if you made it this far. Jack is having the first stirrings here though he is in denial about it. Mac’s will come much later. Maybe a year or so down the road. I may even write that…
> 
> This is my first foray in the MacGyver fandom and while I have quite the track record for writing dub and noncon…it just didn’t feel right here, for this piece, to fully venture there. Oh, it’s teased and hinted but nothing outright occurs. I have another piece in mind that involves Murdoc that may change that. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading if you’re still with me! If you enjoyed at all please let me know <3.


End file.
